this is not the end
by lending credence
Summary: everyone has a chance at life. / tw for a suicide attempt and mentions of suicide.


**this is not the end**

**a/n: this is a ****repost** **that i have moved ****from my main account, to here. i am the same person, not a plagiarist. TRIGGER warning for a suicide attempt and mentions of suicide.**

**i want y'all to know that EVERYONE'S LIFE IS WORTH LIVING. you are so loved.**

* * *

_(Blurry.)_

That's how life after the Battle of Hogwarts felt. Like a _blur. _All throughout the second half of 1998, events had been happening to Draco.

Events that he would never deserve in another world, and ones that weren't even supposed to happen at all.

Event number one; the result of his trial.

Draco had expected his trial to end in Azkaban. He'd heard people all over the Wizarding World talking, he knew what they had all thought of him and his family. And for a moment, it _did _seem as if his trial was going to end in Azkaban. But to his utter shock, he didn't.

It was all because of _Potter._ His secret crush and the savior of the Wizarding World had the nerve to come out and speak at his trial, declaring both he and his mother innocent.

He had never deserved this, and he knew that. He knew it very well.

Event number two; a new friendship.

He was forced to return back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, so that he could get his NEWTs qualifications. He remembered that did not at all look forward to it. The only true friends he could say he honestly had were Blaise and Theo, and Draco thought that were too busy sucking face to even think about anything else.

He was lonely. That fact was obvious, especially with people on the light side of the war clinging on to their prejudice. But over the past year, he'd done the unthinkable.

He'd _made _friends with _Harry Potter. _And of course, he had had no intentions of doing so.

Honestly, it was all Blaise and Theo's fault. It was _them, _along with Granger, who had quite literally _conspired _to bring the two of them together because apparently '_something _had to happen, after all these years.'

Here's how it happened: he and Blaise were walking past the seventh floor closet. So were Potter and Granger. Seconds later, he and Potter were both shoved in there, and the door was locked behind them. At first, they were extremely pissed to be stuck in a room with each other, but then, they were forced to just...start _talking. _

At first, it was grudging conversation about the classes they were taking. Then they started exchanging embarrassing stories of things their friends did to vent their anger at being locked up together. And they actually..._enjoyed each other's company._

* * *

_(Closed.)_

"I'm cutting this whole thing off."

Draco hated to admit it, but he was actually _enjoying _the secret meet-ups that he and Potter

had at the Room of Requirement. He was also very _annoyed_ by them. Who was he to even be anywhere _near _the savior of the Wizarding World?

There were people who outright despised him. Getting a career in the job market would surely be impossible, not when most people still show outright dislike for any member of the Malfoy family.

Sure, he'd _pretend _to everyone that he didn't care about them ('fuck off Weasley!'), but the honest truth was that he did.

The more he got involved with Harry Potter, the more his old and lonely thoughts from when he was in sixth year came back to haunt him. It was best that he stayed away, before he did something he'd regret. It was best that he stayed away, because it was best that Potter was kept away from...these thoughts.

"Cutting the whole thing off?" repeated Potter, not yet getting at what Draco was saying.

"This friendship," said Draco, sneering. "It was never supposed to happen, Potter. I don't even know why I thought we were a good idea in the first place. The only reason it happened was because Blaise made it so."

Draco bit back a look of pity at the crestfallen look on Potter's face, but kept his face firm. "This was fun while it lasted...well, as fun as it could be around the likes of _you..._but I'm afraid it's over."

As Draco made his way out of the room, Potter reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. Before Draco knew it, he was locked into a searing kiss. He can't ever imagine himself admitting it, but it was the best kiss that he'd had in his entire life so far.

_Harry Potter _was kissing _him. _He couldn't believe this. No. This was too far. _Too. Far. _He could not have Harry Potter of all people thinking that this was okay.

"That, Potter," said Draco coldly, "Was possibly the biggest mistake you could have ever made."

With that, he opened the door of the Room of Requirement and left the seventh floor.

* * *

_(Desperation.)_

"You ended things with Potter," said Blaise, evenly, sitting by Draco on the couch. "Why?"

"You know what, Blaise," said Draco, through gritted teeth. "You can just _fuck off. _I don't know _why _you thought it would be any good to insert Potter of all people into my life. We couldn't be any more different. His life is _perfect. _My life, well, you might as well have sent me into Azka- why am I even telling you this, Zabini?" he finally said, disgusted with himself for even attempting to share his inner thoughts.

He, as a Slytherin, wore a _mask. _That was the way he survived at school, and in the war. And it was the way that he would continue to survive. Blaise attempted to call him back, but he left the Slytherin common room - if some Gryffindor wouldn't decide to annoy him.

_(Looks like he'd have to cut off Blaise, as well.)_

His friendship with Potter was the one good thing in his life after the Battle. Not that he could have it continue, and curse his meddling friend for giving him hope like that.

If he remained friends or even...starts a relationship with Potter, then any 'good thing' he does and any job he gets would be under _Potter's merit, _not his. That was too much for his Slytherin mindset to bear.

He sure wasn't going to get his intended job into the Healers industry due to the fact that he fought on the wrong side of the war. His mother was deathly; she did not have long.

_(What's the point? What's the point? What's the point? What's the point?)_

The words wouldn't cease ringing in Draco's ears. The words were right. There was nowhere for him to go in the world. There was nothing _left._

_No one would _truly _care, _he thought bitterly as he reached the top of the Astronomy tower. And for those who did, well, it wouldn't really matter, because his life was already set in stone. Things were bleak.

Before he knew it, he was free-falling off the Astronomy tower.

* * *

_(Hope.)_

Draco fully expected to be burning in some sort of fiery hellscape when he woke up. But he immediately noticed that he wasn't burning, and he appeared to be in a white room.

_(So...he somehow made it to heaven?)_

He was face-to-face with a lady. "Is this heaven?" he asked, his voice still groggy.

"No," sighed the lady, shaking her head.

"So what is it then?" he demanded.

"Earth," she said, her voice contrite. "You survived the fall, though if Harry Potter hadn't gotten there in time, you wouldn't have."

He bit back a sarcastic retort of _great, _but merely gave the woman a stiff nod.

"You gave him quite a scare, you know," said the lady empathetically, before leaving.

'_So,' _he thought bitterly, '_He was still alive. And Potter of all people was responsible for it.' _For a second time, Potter had saved him. Saying that he was angry at the moment was an understatement. A couple moments later, a throat was cleared, and the very person that was responsible for this came into the room.

"We need to talk," Potter's voice was even.

"About what?" Draco's voice was equally as even, and Potter just gave him a withering look. "I didn't _ask _for you to go and play hero, Potter. You did anyway."

"Why on earth would you throw yourself off the Astronomy Tower?" demanded Potter, trying to stay calm, but it was obvious that he was furious.

"Why on earth did you intervene?" countered Draco. "I could've done it."

Potter looked dumbfounded. "Why on earth did I - you were literally going to kill yourself!" he exclaimed. "Should I have let you die then?"

"_Yes!" _exclaimed Draco, as if the answer was obvious.

"You still haven't answered my first question. _Why?" _pressed Potter.

"If I don't tell you, will you leave?" asked Draco.

"No," he said, taking a seat and continuing to stare intently into Draco's grey eyes.

"You're really creeping me out, Potter."

"Tell me, then," said Potter, holding his ground.

"If I tell you, Potter," said Draco. "Then you have to leave me alone. No looking at me, no trying to kiss me, no talking to me. Leave. Me. Alone."

Potter hesitated, but nodded slowly.

"Do you honestly think that I have anything going for me in my life?" asked Draco bitterly. "In case you haven't noticed with your perfect life, _Potter,_ there's nothing left for me here. Almost everyone here hates anything to do with House Malfoy, there's no job opportunities here even with my high grades, my mother's dying, and then Zabini has the _audacity _to try and bring the likes of you anywhere near my life. Now, please leave me alone."

Potter did not leave.

"That was the deal, Potter," Draco hissed.

"I had no idea -"

"That just because you got me out of Azkaban doesn't exactly mean I have a chance here?" he said, coldly.

"Everyone has a chance, Draco," said Potter, his voice sad. "We can try and get the hatred to stop, get the prejudice to - they can't stop you from entering if you have proper qualifications. That's not even legal."

"I _don't want help," _enunciated Draco.

"Is it because it's so hard to accept some?" countered Potter, his eyes narrowed. "Do you really think I'd have gotten anywhere without Ron and Hermione? Would I have killed Voldemort? Would I even be alive at this moment?" He didn't even wait for an answer. "No. No, I wouldn't be. I'm asking you, for _one second, _to swallow your fucking pride and let me help you."

Draco hesitated.

"At least _consider _it," said Potter. "You scared a lot of people. Zabini…Nott..._your mum." _He let those words sink in.

"Do you really think there's a chance that people would actually get over it?" he asked, loathing how vulnerable he sounded.

"Of course. And if they don't, well...there are plenty of people who'll be by your side that'll do our best to make sure it does," assured Potter. "Tell me you'll at least try."

He hesitated. Maybe he could try and accept help, for once in his life. "I suppose I can try, but…"

"But what?"

"...Can you snog me again?"

Potter snorted, but leaned in regardless.


End file.
